About best friends, occasional enemies

New York Times bestselling author Lisa Scottoline and her daughter Francesca Serritella are the best of friends—99.9% of the time. They’re number one on each other’s speed dial and they tell each other everything—well, almost everything. They share shoes and clothes—except one very special green jacket, which almost caused a catfight. In other words, they’re just like every mother and daughter in the world. Best friends, and occasional enemies. Now they’re dishing about it all—their lives, their relationship, and their carb count.

Inspired by their weekly column, “Chick Wit” for The Philadelphia Inquirer, this book is one you’ll have to put down—just to stop laughing.

“Feels like one big gabfest with your best girlfriends, whatever their age. The tell-all twosome have yet again opened their hearts and homes, cooking up a huge helping of laughs, sprinkled with a few tears and a dash of motherly love—and it all goes down deliciously.”
— Booklist

“[A] witty and sweet return to the ins and outs of life in this sometimes kooky, always smart and funny, family.“
— Publishers Weekly

Foreword, by Lisa

Here’s what I’ve learned in my life:  Motherhood has no expiration date.

This means that even though Daughter Francesca has grown up and moved out of the house, I’m still busy being her mother. 

And, happily, her best friend.
 
We talk on the phone a few times a day, usually while she’s walking her dog or I’m walking mine.  Our dogs know all our secrets.

Read this, and so will you.

But to stay on point, even though my mother, Mother Mary, is eighty-six years old, and I’m fifty-five, she’s still busy being my mother.  We talk on the phone, too, but less often, because her voice is always in my head.  It warns me not to buy dented cans, not to leave my blow dryer near the sink, and not to put too much spaghetti on my fork or I’ll choke.  Her message is always the same – beware, watch out, and small electrical appliances can be lethal.

But her voice has protected me since the day it took up residence in my head, unpacking its suitcase and its traveling backscratcher.  Later, when I got to be a mother myself, I became Mother Mary, only with a better car.

It’s inevitable, no?

And now my voice will probably always be in Francesca’s head.

Poor thing.

Raising her, I came to understand, with a sort of suburban awe, the uniqueness, the strength, and the power of the bond between mother and daughter.  Mother love is like no other, and that’s why we love our mothers so deeply, and also why we want to throw them out the window.

Just kidding. 

But that’s the point.

This is a book about the true-life laughter in the relationship between mother and daughter, written by Daughter Francesca and me.  Open it and laugh along.  You’ll read about a power outage that empowers us, toenail clippings that make us look at each other funny, and a green jacket that becomes a battleground. 
I bet you can relate, whether you have a daughter or not.  After all, every woman is a daughter.  And daughterhood doesn’t have an expiration date, either.

Also included herein are stories about the life as a woman, at any age.  Ladies of a certain age, like me, will recognize yourselves in my stories because we all struggle with the same things, like duvet covers, the preemptive pee, and aging gracefully, which is overrated.
 
I’m just like every other middle-aged woman, except that I’m divorced twice (from Thing One and Thing Two) and I kiss my dogs on the lips.

These things are not related. 

I hope.

My cats won’t let me kiss them, as they don’t care who pays the mortgage.

Those of you who are younger will see yourselves in Francesca’s quest for romance, as well as her struggles with her new apartment, which came with mice (free of charge), plus one creepy exterminator.  Francesca’s moved to the city, making a life on her own.

With Mom on speed dial.

Finally, every woman will find her mother in our Mother Mary.  For example, if your mother has ever said to you, “Don’t use that tone with me,” you’ll know what I mean.

If your daughter has said it to you, too, welcome to the club.

So read on, to stories of our life.  We tell the truth about each other, as well as Mother Mary.  Three generation of women, sometimes under the same roof.  It’s either a lovefest, or atomic war.

Enjoy!

And ka-boom!

© Lisa Scottoline 2011